Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [104]
He takes my silence for encouragement and goes on, “You took me out into the singing stars, where I fell into the void. And then you brought me back again, carried me home to my mother’s arms. You are Jax Oonan, of whom much has been sung, and I am destined to leave with you. My destiny lies out there.”
Zeeka glances up at the eternal twilight of the Marakeq sky, but he sees the star-studded darkness above—or maybe it’s more accurate to say he remembers, although I don’t understand how that’s possible. The Mareq are wondrous beings.
“You want to leave with us?” I ask, astonished. “Will Dace allow it?”
“I am a sovereign creature now.” I get the sense that my chip didn’t translate perfectly, but I get the gist. It’s My mom can’t say no because I’m a big boy.
“What will you do out there?” I can’t take him on as a dependent. I just can’t.
“Learn your trade.”
The first Mareq jumper? I don’t even know if he’s got the J-gene. From Fugitive scientist data, Doc posited that the Mareq owned a genetic quality that could aid in longevity for navigators, but I have no clue whether they have the potential themselves. It’s not like you can tell with one look, either, as you can in humans. Like the Rodeisians, Mareq eye color tends to be uniform, a muddy brown, and it will require some tests in order to determine whether Zeeka can realize his dream.
I make a swift decision. “You can come with me as far as Gehenna. I can get you tested there. If you don’t have the J-gene, then I’m sending you home.”
My vocalizer has some trouble with those concepts because Zeeka cocks his head, trying to decipher what I’ve said. “You will test me? If I fail, I must go home.”
Close enough. “Does that sound fair?”
“Yes, Jax Oonan.”
I really must read these writings about Oonan. When Dace said the prophecies of Oonan, I guessed that was some old Mareq prophet, but it appears they think I am Oonan, and the person who wrote all this stuff down didn’t get remembered by name. For a moment, I’m tempted to set the record straight; as a member of the older starfaring race, it’s probably Vel who triggered the gate, but he asked me not to, and I have more pressing matters to attend to right now, such as breaking up a fight between our gate- traveling alt-Mareq and the throat-flushed male who finds her fascinating.
On the eighth day, lights appear in the sky. It can mean only one thing.
Rescue.
Quickly, I speak my farewells and thank Dace for everything. She responds with a regal nod. “Protect my son.”
Then she gives him a bundle of items that will do him little good where we’re going; the Mareq youngling vibrates with excitement. Vel and I gather our things, slight though our belongings may be, and hike toward the landing site. Halfway there, I pause. Hit is a skilled pilot, but if we’re standing where she’s trying to put the ship, that won’t end well. Vel monitors their progress, and when he gives me the all clear, I take off again at a dead run.
As we break from the swamp into the clearing, I recognize the Big Bad Sue, even from fifty meters away. The hatch opens, and Dina steps out. Her hair is a lot longer, spilling nearly to her waist, and as I draw closer, I see the signs of time on her face: new lines framing her eyes and mouth. The question haunts me anew: How long were we gone?
“What the frag happened?” she demands, sweeping me into a fierce hug. “Where were you?”
“It’s a long story. Could we get off this rock before I tell it?”
“Sure.” She pauses, angling her head to study me. “You don’t look any different, bitch. How’s that possible?”
“Has it been so long?” Vel asks.
“Five turns.” She glances at the Mareq. “And who’s this?”
She’s not going to believe it. “Baby-Z2. But he prefers to be called Zeeka.”
For once, the blond mechanic is speechless. And then she manages, “No shit. Well, let’s get inside. Hit and Argus are waiting in the cockpit. They didn’t figure you’d want to linger on world, after being lost so long.”
“You got